


Once Upon An Achievement Hunter

by Storybreather221



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Achievement Hunters, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:42:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2674199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storybreather221/pseuds/Storybreather221
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's your favorite childhood fairy tales, just with a lot more swearing than you remember. Michael and Gavin find a house made of candy in the woods while Geoff tries to wake Ray from a magical slumber and Jack's beard is the fairest in the land. This can only end in disaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Michael and Gavin Get Lost and Find a Gingerbread House

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm still working on the larger, Minecraft AU fic, but it's a bit more complicated than the GTA one so it's taking longer to get it right. In the meantime, I decided to take occasional breaks from the larger fic to write short, fairy tale-inspired ficlets. Right now it's just the Achievement Hunter guys, but I may include some Rooster Teeth people as well.
> 
> I dunno this sounded a lot better in my head. Should be interesting to see what I can come up with.

“I hate you. So. Fucking. Much.”

“We’re not lost, Michael!”

“Gavin, you have no idea where we are. That is literally the fucking definition of ‘lost’.”

Michael was angry. Really fucking mad. The kind of rage that usually ended with punching something, and if he didn’t shut up and figure out where they were, that something was going to be a certain British prick.

“Ow! God fucking dammit!” Michael tripped over something in the dark and nearly face-planted into the dirt. The sun had set nearly an hour ago and the tall trees and dense foliage of the forest meant there wasn’t a whole lot of light to begin with. Michael could barely make out Gavin’s lanky form right in front of him, which resulted in a lot of stumbling, bumping into each other, and even more swearing.

“‘Hey, Michael, why don’t you go with Gavin to get some sticks?’” Michael said in a poor imitation of Geoff. “‘Can’t have s’mores without marshmallow roasting sticks.’ Yeah, I’ll get right on that, Geoff. When they pull our dead bodies out of the woods tomorrow, let my tombstone say ‘he did it for the fucking marshmallow sticks.”

“You didn’t have to come with me!” Gavin said in protest.

“‘You didn’ ‘ave ta come wit’ me!’” This time Michael’s voice shot up about three octaves and adopted alarmingly awful cockney undertones. “Of course I had to. If I didn’t, you’d be out here forever trying to find the perfect stick. Ooh, that one has too many twigs. Ooh, that one is too thick. Ooh, that one is too dirty. Can’t believe we both left our goddamn cell phones at the house. You always have yours on you!”

“You’re being awful, Michael.”

Michael sighed. He _was_ acting like a complete jackass. It’s not like he’d been paying attention to where they were either. He was just stressed because night had fallen and the woods were someplace you didn’t want to be at--

Just then Michael bumped into Gavin, who had paused to squat down near the ground.

“For fuck’s sake. What are you doing?” He was going to murder him. He’d thought about it many a time, but now he might actually do it.

“‘m looking for the trail,” Gavin muttered, now bent down so low his ridiculously large nose was practically scraping against the ground.

“What trail?” Michael felt a brief twinge of hope. Had Gavin actually been smart enough to mark their path so they could find their way back to Geoff’s house?

“I left a bunch of biscuit bits behind us so we could find our way back,” Gavin said, now feeling along the ground as if hoping to stumble upon them. “But it’s too damn dark. I can’t see anything.”

“Biscuit bits?”

“Yeah, those things that sandwich in the s’mores.”

Please God give him patience. He can’t go to jail for murder, he hasn’t finished playing _Far Cry 4_ yet.

“Alright, first of all, they’re called graham crackers. Fucking _graham crackers_. Secondly, are you telling me, that in your careful and well-thought out of plan of making sure we got back to the house with our assholes intact, you thought it would be a brilliant idea to leave pieces of food lying around on the ground for us to find later and follow back?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong, Gavin, is that these woods are filled with bugs and birds and tiny animals and shit who like to _eat_ human food such as, oh say, fucking graham crackers!”

“ . . . oh.”

“Yeah, fucking ‘oh,’ Gavin. Damn dude, I know you’re dumb, but this is a whole new level of moron.”

Michael expected Gavin to defend himself, to whine about how Michael hadn’t even thought to leave a trail and it was just as much his fault they were lost. But what came out of Gavin’s mouth was an admission of defeat rarely heard, and although Michael couldn’t see his friend he could tell from his voice that Gavin was scared.

“Michael, what if we can’t find our way back?”

“Shit,” Michael looked up towards the sky, trying to spot anything that could point them in the right direction. Whether it was a cloudy night or the leaves were just too damn thick, he could make out nothing save for blackness above. He spun around, trying to harness some hidden Daredevil instinct or some such bullshit.

“I think the house is back in this direction,” Michael said, picking a path through the trees on his left. “Let’s go.”

“But what if it’s the wrong way?”

“Look, the woods have to end at some point. If I’m wrong, we’ll probably at least come out on a road or something and can figure it out from there.”

They started out in the direction Michael had indicated. After Gavin kept complaining he was going too far ahead and leaving him behind, Michael reached back to grab his wrist and drag him along.

“Shut up, at least this way we won’t get separated,” Michael snapped in response to yet more protests. Gavin ought to win an Olympic medal for bitching. They wandered on, presumably in a straight line but for all Michael could see in the pitch-black nothing they might be going around in circles. He didn’t say anything though, not wanting to rile Gavin up. The guy was annoying enough at the moment as it was. Suddenly, Gavin tugged on his arm and pointed ahead.

“Michael, look!”

Just barely discernible in the distance were several pinpricks of light, the kind of light that might come from a couple of windows.

“Fucking finally!” Michael shouted, his quick walk turning into a run, though when he nearly twisted his ankle on a tree root he slowed down again. As they got closer the lights resolved themselves to reveal a house--but it wasn’t the house they had come from.

“What in buggering hell?”

“The fuck?”

By definition, the thing in front of them was technically a house. It had a front door with two windows on either side, four walls, a roof, and a chimney. There was just one, very big difference.

“Why the fuck is this entire house covered in candy?” Michael asked. It was a legitimate question. They were standing in front of what basically amounted to a life-sized gingerbread house, complete with iced roof shingles, gumdrop steps, and candy cane window frames. Michael had never seen anything quite so bizarre in his life, and he wondered if he might not be dreaming after all. He seized the skin on his arm with his thumb and forefinger and gave it a hard pinch. He wasn’t really sure what that was supposed to do, but it hurt and he didn’t wake up.

Gavin, meanwhile, seemed to have gotten over the initial shock and was approaching the house.

“This is incredible,” he said, reaching out to touch one of the glazed window panes.

“Hang on, Gav, maybe you shouldn’t--”

Too late. Gavin broke off one of the iced icicles with a snap that to Michael seemed obnoxiously loud. Then he saw Gavin raise it to his mouth.

“It’s real icing, Michael!”

“You see a weird-ass house made of candy in the middle of the woods and your first instinct is to start eating it? The fuck is wrong with you? You don’t know where that’s been!”

“Tastes fine to me. Besides, all that walking around has made me bloody starving,” Gavin said, shrugging as he went in for another icicle. After a moment of hesitation, Michael stepped up to peer into one of the windows, but he couldn’t see anything as instead of glass he was looking through what appeared to be a piece of caramel.

“Someone’s gotta be home,” Michael said. “I wonder what kind of nutbag lives here?”

“That’s kind of a rude thing to say about someone whose house you’re eating.”

Michael jumped away from the window with a curse, turning to stare at the man who had just walked out of the open front door. On the other side, Gavin froze with a broken peppermint stick in his hands. The man before them was much taller than the two young men, with dirty blonde hair pulled back from a large forehead, but he had a kind face, at least from what Michael could tell in the insufficient light, and all in all didn’t seem too terribly pissed that they had been caught eating his house.

“Now what are two young boys doing wandering around the woods at this hour?” the man asked. “Don’t you know there are all sorts of nasty things out there?”

“We, uh, we got lost,” Michael said nervously. He wasn’t about to trust anyone who lived in a goddamn gingerbread house.

“Why don’t you come in? I have a phone you can use.”

Michael really didn’t want to go into the house. But on the other hand, he really didn’t want to stay out in the woods all night.

“That’d be great, thanks!” Gavin piped up before Michael could make up his mind. The older man smiled and opened the door a little wider.

“Make yourselves at home,” he said, and vanished into the house. Michael reached out and grabbed Gavin’s arm before he walked in.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. Gavin shook his head.

“Not really, but I’d rather not go back to wandering around in the dark.”

“Alright, fair enough.” Still, Michael planned on keeping an eye on that creepy candy motherfucker.

Michael had expected the inside of the house to be just as sugar-coated as the outside, but the interior looked like any regular old house. The furniture was made of fabric and wood, and there wasn’t a gumdrop in sight.

“Can I get you anything?” the man called from the doorway that led to the kitchen. “You guys sound really tired, how long were you out there for?”

“Uh, not sure, maybe an hour,” Michael said.

“You mental, Michael? We were walking around for at least three hours. My feet are killing me.”

“Shut up, Gavin.”

“So, Michael and Gavin, huh?” Michael flinched. He felt very uncomfortable with this stranger knowing their names. Gavin seemed less bothered by it.

“That’s us. What do they call you, the Candy Man?”

“Nah, Ryan works for me.”

“Wow, that’s such a normal-sounding name for a bloke who lives in a house made of sweets.”

“Oh I’m a regular guy. I just have a few . . . eccentricities.”

“Yeah, so, about that phone . . .?” Michael was liking their situation less and less by the second.

“You sure you guys don’t want something to eat first?”

“Maybe after we call home and let our friend know we’re okay,” Gavin said. Michael could tell that he was getting nervous too.

“Sure, sure. Phone’s in here.”

Ryan gestured to a room just off the kitchen. As Michael walked past him, he glanced up at his face and did a double-take. He had not noticed in the dark that Ryan’s eyes were colorless, lifeless, and stared into space above Michael’s head rather than at him.

“You’re blind,” Michael said without thinking. “Shit, sorry that was--”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ryan said, redirecting his sightless gaze towards Michael. “It is true, after all.”

“Really?” Gavin called from back in the living room. “How do you get around without a stick?”

“Oh, I know this old house pretty well. It’s like finding your way around a familiar place in the dark.”

“I bet you knock your shins into stuff all the time,” Gavin said.

“Come on, have more faith in me, Gavin,” Ryan said. “I’m smarter than I look.”

Michael grinned half-heartedly, realized Ryan wouldn’t be able to see it anyway, and continued towards the closet where the phone appeared to be stored.

“In here?” he asked.

“Right in the pantry. Weird place for a phone, I know, but as you’ve pointed out, I live in a gingerbread house, so weird is kind of my thing.”

“Yeah, what’s with that?” Gavin asked as Michael stepped inside the tiny room. “Don’t birds and stuff eat up your roof?”

“It’s a strange choice of building material,” Ryan shrugged. “But I find it useful for my purposes.”

Michael looked around at the walls but couldn’t find a phone. He suddenly felt very claustrophobic standing in that small space.

“Purposes?”

“Of course. What better way to lure dumb little kids to my home than with free candy?”

Eyes wide, Michael tried to run out of the pantry but Ryan slammed the door shut, locking him inside.

“Michael!” Gavin started to run towards him but Ryan blocked his path.

“Don’t even think about it. I don’t need to be able to see to hand your ass to you.”

Michael pounded against the door, peering through the tiny, barred window. He couldn’t believe he’d walked into a trap, literally! The guy was sketchy as hell, how had he not picked up on this?

“Let me out of here you psycho-ass motherfucker!”

“Hmm . . . nah.”

“Let him go, you bastard!” Gavin tried to attack Ryan but the older man held him back with a firm grip on his upper arm.

“You’re a thin one,” he said, squeezing Gavin’s arm until he winced with the pain. “I doubt you’ll make a good meal. Don’t worry, I have other uses for you.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” Michael shouted. Ryan looked back at him, though he stared through Michael rather than at him.

“Well I’m not going to eat someone as skinny as him. The meat will be all lean and stringy, definitely not my taste. You, on the other hand . . .” While maintaining a tight grip on Gavin’s arm, Ryan reached through the bars to pinch Michael’s wrist. “You’re more of what I’m looking for. I’ll have to fatten you up big time though, before you’re ready to cook.”

“Fuck. What the fuck.” Michael was having a dream. A very bad dream. That had to be it. This couldn’t be happening. Outside his cell, Gavin was having a similarly rough time.

“What are you on about?” Gavin cried, now kicking at Ryan’s shins in an effort to get him to loosen his grip.

“Why do you think I lure children here? I’ve gotta eat _something_.”

“We’re, we’re not kids! We’re bloody adults!”

“Close enough.”

And to Michael’s horror, Ryan dragged Gavin out of sight, leaving him to scream himself hoarse against the door of his cage.

 

The next few days ran into each other in a panicked blur. There wasn’t much for Michael to do, but the constant fear of being eaten kept him from getting bored. Ryan had put Gavin to work around the house, sweeping the floors, dusting the furniture, and straightening up the place. Gavin had complained at first, but when Ryan threatened to eat him then and there, stringy meat be damned, Gavin became more amendable to the role of maid.

It was a true sign of their strong friendship that Gavin didn’t run off and leave Michael behind. Ryan didn’t lock Gavin up at night, so he could have easily gotten away. The first night, Michael had told Gavin to do just that, get help and come back for him. But Gavin pointed out that even if he did manage to find his way back here, Ryan would probably cook Michael up before that.

Ryan said he wanted to get the most out of this meal, so he kept cooking enormous meals for Michael to eat every day in the hopes of fattening him up. Michael would never eat all of it, and often saved some for Gavin, who wasn’t given much.

“The fuck am I gonna do, man?” Michael asked one night, voice low so as not to wake Ryan. “I need to get out of here or that fucking psycho’s gonna make me into a hamburger.”

“Can you break the door down?”

“No way, the wood’s too thick. What about the key, can you get your hands on the key?”

Gavin shook his head.

“He always keeps it on him, and he’s a very light sleeper. If I tried to grab it--”

“I know, I know,” Michael sighed. “He’d spidey-sense you and then you’d be dead. Fuck.”

Michael picked through the rest of his dinner. He wasn’t all that hungry. Just then he spotted a couple of chicken bones.

“He’s waiting for me to get really fat before eating me, right?”

“Yeah, that seems to be the plan.”

Michael picked up one of the chicken bones, measured it against his finger.

“Then I think I have an idea. It’s not going to get me out of here, but it’ll at least buy me a few more days.”

 

The next morning, Ryan stood outside the window to Michael’s cell.

“Alright, you’ve had a couple days to get nice and fat,” he said. “Stick out your hand so I can feel whether you’re ready yet.”

“Go to hell.”

“Kiss your mother with that mouth? Hand, _now_.”

Holding his breath, Michael stuck out the chicken bone instead. He was counting on Ryan’s blindness to trick him into thinking he was feeling Michael’s finger, which despite all the food Michael had been eating was not getting any fatter, so he would not be ready to eat anytime soon. It was a risk, but Michael had a good feeling about it, because if Ryan was blind he couldn’t possibly tell--

“Why are you giving me a chicken bone?”

“It’s . . . it’s my finger. I’m obviously not eating enough and so not ready to _be_ eaten.”

“I’m blind, not stupid. I know what chicken bones feel like compared to human fingers. This thing doesn’t even have any flesh on it. You seriously thought you could get away with this?”

“Uh, well . . . shit.”

“Did you have a plan B there, numb-nuts?”

“What if I ask you nicely to please not fucking eat me you certifiable sack of shit?”

“So much energy. You know what? I think you’re ready to eat now. Gavin! Get some wood from out back.”

“You fucking piece of goddamn, shit-stained--”

Michael was so terrified he was just spewing out a random string of curses. He didn’t know what else to do. But as soon as Ryan opened the door he was going to fight like a devil to get away. No one made Michael Jones into a meal. He backed against the far wall, putting distance between himself and the door so he could try to tackle the bastard or something. Any minute now.

_Clunk._

_Thud._

Ryan’s face dropped out of view of the window. Confused, Michael peered through and saw the older man laying face-down on the ground. Standing above him was Gavin who had returned from out back with, not the wood as requested, but a rusted old shovel, which he had just used to club Ryan on the back of the head. There was a moment of silence as Michael and Gavin looked at each other, then down at Ryan’s unconscious body, then back up again.

“Holy fuck. That was really effective. Why didn’t we try that days ago?”

“I dunno, I just thought of it.”

“Seriously, that was way better than my stupid chicken bone idea.”

“Are you saying I’m smarter than you, Michael?”

“Absolutely not. Get me out of here.”

Gavin bent down to grab a key that hung from one of Ryan’s belt loops. He unlocked the door and Michael walked free, carefully stepping over the unconscious man to do so. He wanted to head straight for the front door, but Gavin held him back.

“We can’t just leave him here.”

“Let’s throw him in the oven. Give the bastard a taste of his own medicine.”

“That’s disgusting, Michael.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been locked in a closet for nearly a week waiting to be eaten. There is no way I’m gonna have enough cash to cover all my therapy bills.”

“Let’s just put him in the closet and lock the door.”

“Fine by me.”

It took a bit of effort, but they managed to drag Ryan’s limp body inside and shut the door behind him. Gavin locked it and pocketed the key.

“I feel kinda bad leaving him in there,” Gavin said. “He might starve.”

“I hope he fucking rots,” Michael said, not feeling sorry at all. “Besides, I’m calling the cops the second we get back. They’ll find him, it’s not like this place is hard to miss.”

Before they left, Michael and Gavin raided the fridge. That guy Ryan may have been a psychopath, but the dude knew how to cook. His enchiladas had been especially good.

They walked out of the house to bright sunshine. Now that it was the middle of the day, Michael felt more confident navigating their way back through the woods to Geoff’s house. Before they headed out, they took one last look at the house. It looked innocent in the light of day. Like some enchanted cottage you’d see in a fairy tale.

“Hey, Gavin?”

“Yeah, Michael?”

“When we get back home, let’s get so fucking wasted that it wipes this week permanently from our brains.”

“Sounds absolutely top.”

“Fucking weird-ass shit, man. Like seriously, what the fuck?”

And with that in mind, they headed back into the woods, where Michael prayed to every deity he’d ever heard of that the next sight they’d see would be Geoff’s freaked out, possibly annoyed face.

After all, they never did get those marshmallow sticks.


	2. In Which Ray Won't Fucking Wake Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as happy with this one, it was a bit more difficult to balance the fairy tale with the realistic stuff, but I think it worked out alright in the end. I was going to have Kdin be the villain initially because when there's a dragon involved, he's usually there too, but it worked out better for the "plot" to have a fan instead.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Once upon a time, in the far off land of Austin, Texas, there lived a righteous and courageous knight by the name of Sir Geoffrey.

Well, maybe not a knight so much as an overworked man in charge of ever-increasing numbers of egotistical dumbasses. And not so much righteous and courageous as self-indulgent and inebriated. And he’d really rather be called Geoff.

But he did live in Austin, and was about to embark on a most noble and dangerous quest, although he did not yet know of his fate. At the moment he was fuming from a particularly frustrating confrontation with a co-worker, and he was having trouble getting the stupid, mingy little Brit’s voice out of his head. Thus, he was less kind than he ought to have been when a fan wandered into the studio asking about tours.

“You've gotta be kidding me,” Geoff remarked to Ray, who had been on his way back from the parking lot and had seen the fan walk in. He and Geoff were standing a little ways down from the reception desk, where the fan was politely being told that they were not conducting tours at the moment.

“We’ve been saying for years that we don’t do tours anymore,” Geoff said, too aggravated to keep his voice down. “Why can’t these people take no for an answer?”

“People are dumb,” Ray shrugged, although he was courteous enough to keep his voice low, especially as the fan kept glancing their way.

“No, seriously,” Geoff continued, not caring that his voice carried down the hall. “We’re not a damn amusement park. We can’t do this shit anymore, there’s too much stuff going on. When are so-called fans going to get that through their fucking heads?”

“Hey c’mon, man. You don’t have to be so rude,” the fan, a young man in his early twenties, said.

“Let’s just go back to the office,” Ray muttered, but Geoff was already walking towards the desk.

“Look, we’re sorry you had to come all this way from Timbuktu or wherever just to see us, but we’re not giving tours anymore. We’ve said it a million times. There’s too much going on that we can’t make public yet. Please respect that, and leave.”

“It’s not like I’m going to take pictures of stuff,” the young man said, now ignoring the receptionist altogether in favor of Geoff. “Please, Geoff? I drove four hours just to get here. Can I at least check out the Achievement Hunter office?”

“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends,” Geoff said. Normally, he wouldn’t have reacted this harshly. He wouldn’t even have gotten involved. But today had been incredibly frustrating. People’s audio had gotten fucked up, he’d dropped frames on the GTA Let’s Play twice, and Gavin was being even more of a little bitch than usual. Today he was just itching for someone to take it all out on and this kid was the lucky winner. “You whiney fans think you’re so damn entitled, like it’s our goddamn privilege to be providing content for the high and mighty denizens of the internet. Well guess what? We’ve got our own shit to take care of, and if we tell you we’re not giving tours, we’re not going to give you a fucking tour, so get the fuck out!”

“Holy shit,” Ray said from behind him. Even Geoff was slightly taken aback at what he was saying. But it was too late to take it back now.

“So I’m not welcome here then?” the young man said. His voice was quiet but something about him seemed to have changed. It made Geoff nervous, even if he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. “Fine. But know that the tragedy that will befall you will be your doing.” He pointed at Ray. “For the wrong you have caused me I will lay a curse upon your friend.”

“Did Matt approve a new show and no one told me?” Geoff asked, peering around the room for the cameraman. “Is this some kind of live-action Dungeons and Dragons thing? I told Burnie I’m not filming _Immersion_ anymore.”

“Your punishment will be thus: Ray Narvaez Jr., I will take the thing you love most and turn it against you.”

“Wait, why am I involved in this? I’m not the one who just verbally bitch-slapped you. Curse Geoff, not me!”

“You’re a piece of shit, Ray.”

“Hey, gotta keep an eye out for number one here.”

“Hello? Cursing you over here?”

“Why are you still here?” Geoff asked. “Do I need to call pest control?”

“Ugh, just, just listen okay? Dammit, now I lost track of it . . .” Geoff and Ray waited with raised eyebrows as the young man got his thoughts back together. “Okay, like I was saying. Ray Narvaez Jr., the thing you love most in this world is your video games, and so my curse will--”

“Is it video games though? I mean, have you been to Homeslice? I practically live there. And then there’s my Meatspin account--”

“Shut up already! The next time you play a video game you will fall into an eternal slumber and only by showing compassion through an act of true love will Geoff be able to save you. There, done! That would have been way more impressive if you hadn’t interrupted me five billion times.”

“That’s it?” Geoff asked. “He’s just gonna take a nap in the middle of work? He does that anyway! Why not go for something a little more deadlier?”

“Hey!” Ray protested.

“I just mean hypothetically! It’s not like he can really _do_ anything.”

“Your doubts will not linger once my magic begins to work,” the young man said. “Soon you will know the true extent of my power.”

“Okay seriously, dude, why are you talking like you’re from _Game of Thrones_?” Ray asked.

“It, uh, I . . . I think it sounds cooler. Doesn’t it sound cooler? More threatening?”

“Oh my god. I’m being threatened by a nerd. A really, really lame nerd. I’m being punk’d right? The fuck is my life? Seriously, when did I ask to be surrounded by all these freaks . . .?” As he spoke, Geoff headed back to the office, where he intended to raid the liquor supply, finish his work, and, god-willing, call it an early day. Ray stared at the fan awkwardly.

“Um, bye,” he said, and ran after Geoff.

“You guys will never believe what just happened--” Ray started to tell the others once he got back inside the office. Geoff interrupted him.

“Nope. You can recount that bullshit once I’m gone. I want to finish this Let’s Play and then I’m going home and you assholes can do whatever the hell you want, I don’t give a fuck.”

They got back to filming the final Minecraft Let’s Play of the day. Even though he was hosting as usual, in truth, Geoff was only half-assing things. Luckily the others seemed to be high in energy, which made up for his own lackluster performance. Gavin was yelling at Ryan for setting him on fire again when Geoff realized he hadn’t heard Ray speak in awhile. Not an unusual thing, especially when they were playing Minecraft, but he had to say something every once in awhile to make sure the audience knew he was still there.

“Hey, someone check to make sure Ray’s still conscious,” Geoff said. He’d meant it as a joke, but suddenly Michael started laughing.

“Oh my fucking god,” he said. “He did it again.”

“Did what?” Gavin asked. From the corner of his eye, Geoff saw him stop playing to look over at Ray, who Geoff couldn’t see because he was blocked by Jack. Geoff heard Gavin stifle a giggle. “For Christ’s sakes.”

Geoff looked away from his screen, tilting back in his chair slightly to get a look at Ray.

“Did that motherfucker actually fall asleep?”

Ray was leaning back in his chair, the controller still in his hands but his fingers unmoving. His head was slumped forward, his eyes closed, and his mouth hung open slightly. Michael burst into loud laughter, and was quickly joined in by Jack and Ryan as they looked to confirm what Geoff had just said. Geoff sighed loudly. He really needed this day to be over.

“Someone chuck a controller at his head and wake him up,” he said. “Actually, let him sleep. It won’t make a difference.”

The others laughed but Michael reached out to nudge Ray’s shoulder, leaning away from his mic so his voice wouldn’t get picked up.

“Ray. Ray. Motherfucker. Wake up, you dipshit.”

Geoff was seriously annoyed now. It wasn’t the first time Ray had fallen asleep during a Let’s Play, but now he was disrupting the flow of the video and they would have to edit a huge chunk of it out. Not that he was the one who had to edit the video, but it was still a giant pain in the ass.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” The tone in Michael’s voice had shifted to something less amused. He was shaking Ray more violently now, so much so that the controller slid out of his hands and his headphones slipped off of one ear.

“Uh, welcome to Minecraft, where Geoff is about to fire Ray’s ass,” Geoff joked, trying to get the video back on track. But the others were all looking over at Michael, who had actually gotten out of his chair to swivel Ray around to face him.

“What’s going on?” Gavin asked, completely distracted from the game.

“I can’t wake him up!” Michael was starting to panic now, although he had stopped shaking Ray, who was still decidedly unconscious.

“Achievement Hunters, controllers down,” Geoff instructed, his earlier irritation vanishing in the wake of a rising concern. Something was wrong.

Ryan got out of his seat and went over to Ray.

“He seemed fine a few minutes ago,” he said, checking Ray’s pulse. “And he’s breathing regularly.”

“So what’s wrong with him?” Gavin asked.

“Should we call an ambulance?” Jack added.

The discussion faded out as Geoff thought back to his argument with the fan, something bitter and hollow twisting in his gut.

_“The next time you play a video game you will fall into an eternal slumber.”_

No way. There was no fucking way.

The next few hours passed by in a blur. Jack called an ambulance, and the paramedics who arrived on the scene were completely baffled. A perfectly healthy young man had fallen into an unconscious state without any known cause. They decided to bring him to the hospital for a more in-depth look, with MRIs, CAT scans, all that shit. Geoff made sure they had all his contact information and planned to head to the hospital later after checking in at home first. The others made similar plans and headed home early. Geoff let them go--it wasn’t like they were going to keep going with the Let’s Play--and after explaining the situation to Matt and Burnie he went home himself.

Only someone was already waiting for him. And he had made a few changes.

“Oh, look. The noble knight has come to save his damsel in distress.” 

The fan from earlier that morning was sitting in Geoff’s driveway. Geoff almost didn’t notice him, however, because he was distracted by the sight of his house. Actually, he couldn’t even _see_ his house because it had been completely surrounded by a tangle of thorns so thick he couldn’t make out a single shingle. 

Shoving the shocking appearance of the thorns into a corner of his mind to be dealt with later, Geoff marched up to the fan and lifted him to his feet by the collar of his shirt.

“What the fuck did you do?”

“You should have heeded my warning. Now your friend will sleep forever unless you can--”

“Enough. Cut the D&D bullshit. Ray is in the fucking hospital now because of you. My house has been eaten by goddamn plants and I’m about to lose my fucking mind! I don’t know how you did it, but I know this is your fault, and you’re going to undo it unless you want me to punch your nose into the back of your skull.”

“He’s not at the hospital.”

“What?”

“There’s nothing wrong with Ray, at least not that doctors would be able to detect. He’s in perfect health.”

“Except he won’t fucking wake up!”

“Of course not. That’s part of the curse.”

“Shut the fuck up about curses. Did you drug him? Is he in on this? How much did you pay him?”

“You still don’t believe me after seeing all this?” The young man gestured to the thorn-covered house. Geoff had to admit, that part was hard to explain. But he wasn’t ready to accept the fact that the guy before him was some kind of fucked-up, hocus-pocus magician. Just then, a thought occurred to him, and he looked around the neighborhood for a car, a passing pedestrian, anyone who might be walking by and wondering what the hell was going on at the Ramsey household.

“Where is everyone?” he asked. “People should be freaking out about this.”

“I thought this would be easier if we had some privacy,” the fan said. “I’ve cast an enchantment over this entire area. No one will notice a thing except for you and I.”

“It’s ‘you and me’ you ignorant fuck, and how the hell does that work?”

“Magic.”

“Of course it is. Let’s backtrack a bit. Where is Ray?”

“He’s in there.” The fan jerked his thumb back to indicate the enormous thorn clusterfuck formerly known as Geoff’s house.

“How--nope, shut up. I don’t want to hear about your bullshit magic again. I’ll let the white coats deal with that after I get Ray out.”

Geoff let go of the fan and tried to head for his front door, but the fan quickly blocked him.

“Outta my way, asshole.”

“You think you can just brush me aside so easily?”

Geoff was done. He was so done. And if this motherfucker didn’t get out of the way, he was going to get a one-way ticket to the hospital, vague magical powers be damned. Geoff got right up in the man’s face.

“Out. Of. My. Way.”

Rather than being intimidated and scurrying back under the rock he lived, the man made a face that Geoff assumed was supposed to be a sneer but came out more like he had just shit his pants and could smell the foul, shameful odor.

“If you want to awaken your sleeping beauty, you’ll have to get past me!”

Geoff didn’t think that would be much of a problem. The guy wasn’t much heavier than Gavin, and although he’d been on the bad end of more than a few fights himself, he knew he could take this wimp.

That is, until he began to transform.

If all the other shit that had gone down that day had never happened, Geoff would have thought he’d gone crazy. As it was, he had to think back to make sure he hadn’t somehow taken acid on the way over here, because the regular-looking guy in front of him was changing into something that was as non-human as it got. His entire body grew to five times its size as his pale skin darkened and turned into scales. His face stretched out to form an enormous snout as two huge wings popped out of his back. In just a few seconds, the harmless, pain-in-the-ass fanboy had transformed into a terrifyingly badass, motherfucking dragon.

Geoff glanced once again at the sidewalk, but it was still unbelievably empty. He considered taking out his phone to record a video of the reality-defying beast, but thought the thing might barbecue him if he did. Plus, his phone might not work around magical creatures, or some such Hogwarts bullshit. Geoff was snapped out of his thoughts when the dragon began to speak. Its voice was deeper than the man’s had been, but it was strange to hear a human tongue coming out of that enormous monster.

“So, Sir Geoffrey. Do you believe you are strong enough to defeat me?”

Geoff didn’t even have to consider it.

“Oh fuck no.”

The dragon paused, and although it was hard to tell by its expression it seemed confused.

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, I’m not fighting a fucking dragon.”

“But, don’t you want to save Ray?”

“Eh, someone else will probably get around to it. Or he’ll just wake up eventually.”

“What kind of friend are you?”

“A not dead friend, and that’s the most important kind.”

“So, you’re _not_ going to fight me?”

“No chance in hell.”

“Huh. I, I don’t know what to do now. This has never happened before.”

“Well, good luck with that, buddy. I’ll hopefully never see you around.”

“Right, yeah. Okay.”

Geoff headed back down the sidewalk, ready to put this whole episode behind him.

“Or, you know, _I_ could just fight _you_.”

Geoff turned around just in time to see the dragon lunge for him, jaws opened wide, ready to swallow him down in two quick bites. With an agility that surprised him, he dove out of the way, landing hard on the ground but mercifully in one piece. But as hard as the adrenaline was pumping right now, Geoff knew there was no way in _hell_ he was going to get the best of a goddamned, motherfucking _dragon_. His only hope was that somewhere under all those scales and sharp pointy bits was a butt-hurt fan that, in all honesty, Geoff had wrongly bitched out that morning.

“Hey, Mr. Scary Dragon! Look I know you’re hell-bent on chomping on my ass right now but if you just listen for a sec I have something I want to say to you!”

Against all of Geoff’s expectations, the dragon actually did pause, its head cocked to the side. Geoff took that as a sign that this kumbayah bullshit was working and went on.

“Listen, man. I was a dick to you. A huge, giant cock. I get that. I was having a rough day, I’m sure you’ve had those too. You know, those days when nothing goes right and you just want to scream until your lungs shred themselves to pieces?”

The dragon sat back on its hind legs. Geoff could have sworn the thing looked almost contemplative.

“Yeah, I get that,” it said. “And I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just so excited to see the Rooster Teeth studios--I’m such a huge fan--that I guess I got carried away. You guys always seem so fun and open in your videos, and you’re usually really welcoming to your fans, I guess I forgot that, even though you guys are a huge part of my life, that doesn’t necessarily make me a part of yours.”

“You guys _are_ a huge part of our lives,” Geoff said. “We couldn’t do what we do without the fans. But we’re only human, and we all have our bad days. I’m sorry for chewing you out this morning. It was uncalled for.”

“Nah, I get it.” Geoff watched as the dragon gradually shrank down and changed until it had become human again. The young man looked at Geoff with a sheepish expression, rubbing at the back of his head in embarrassment.

“Sorry I kind of overreacted,” he said. “Won’t happen again.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Geoff said.

After a brief moment of hesitation, the kid stuck out his hand.

“It was really awesome meeting you,” he said. Geoff awkwardly shook hands with him.

“Uh, same here, I guess.”

“Don’t forget, an act of true love will remove the curse and wake him up.”

“Right, got it.”

The young man smiled, turned to go, but then changed his mind.

“Hey, uh, could I get your autograph?”

Geoff signed the back of the receipt offered to him and waved goodbye as the young man walked off. Geoff waited until he was out of sight before dropping the smile from his face.

“What a fucking weirdo.”

He turned and headed into his house. The thorns had disappeared (not that anyone had noticed them in the first place, fucking bullshit voodoo magic) so he had no problems getting inside. On a hunch, he went all the way up to the top floor where his bedroom was located.

Ray had been tucked into his bed as securely as a mother might have done, Geoff’s thick comforter obscuring most of the scrawny bastard’s sleeping form. He was positioned in such a way that the light from outside shone directly onto him. Geoff stared for a moment at Ray’s sleeping face, then slowly leaned down towards him until his lips were hovering over Ray’s ear.

“Hey, asshole. Wake up.”

Ray’s eyes did not so much as flicker.

“Fucking wake up. Rise and shine, motherfucker!”

Still nothing.

“Hey, Ray, wanna get some Homeslice?”

“I’m up!” Ray immediately shot awake, throwing the blankets away and knocking his pillow onto the floor.

“Unbelievable,” Geoff said, already heading for the door. He was going to go out, have sixteen shots of whiskey, and forget all about dragons and thorn bushes, and stupid fucking lazy-ass Puerto Ricans.

“Wait, Geoff! Aren’t we getting Homeslice? You promised me pizza! Geoff!”

True love. Tough love. It was all the same thing.


	3. In Which Jack Has the Fairest Beard in the Land

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started out well and then just got really silly. And yes, I know Jack isn't the newest member of AH but he had to be for this to work. Hope you guys at least get a good laugh out of it.

Adam settled comfortably into his chair, gazing into the reflective surface. With one hand stroking his luscious, magnificent facial hair, he addressed the face before him.

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall. Who has the fairest beard of all?”

Silence.

“Joel, are you there?”

“Okay, first of all. First of all, I’m not even on your wall, I’m in your computer. I mean not, not technically _in_ your computer but you get the idea.”

“Joel--”

“Second, if you’re going to do this every time we skype, I’m not even going to--like what in your mind told you that was the proper way to greet someone?”

“Joel--”

“Every single time we start skyping you keep asking me about your beard! Like, what do you even want me to _say_ , Adam? I don’t, I just don’t understand you sometimes. Most of the time. All of the time.”

“Motherfucker, shut up!”

“And then you use this harsh language, and it really hurts my feelings--”

“I hate you.” Adam leaned back in his chair and rubbed at his eyes. It always gave him a headache, talking to Joel, who, when the guy wasn’t interrupting himself or cutting off a story abruptly, liked to nitpick at every single thing that came out of Adam’s mouth. It was incredibly frustrating when you were trying to carry on a conversation with the guy.

“You know who has a nice beard?” Joel went on, completely ignoring Adam. “Jack Pattillo.”

“The new guy? You think his beard is nicer than mine?”

“He also just seems like a good, kind-hearted man, who would never call me mean names or say rude things like you do. You know, you are not a very good friend.”

“Jack can’t have a nicer beard than me. My beard is my identity at this company!”

“Does your beard get a separate paycheck? Adam?”

But Adam was no longer paying attention to Joel. He was far more concerned about this new guy who threatened to undermine his position at the company as “Resident Beard.” It was a prestigious spot Adam had guarded carefully for years, and he was not about to let some newbie take it from him.

“Matt. Jeremy. Get in here,” he called.

“Um, we’re already here,” Jeremy said from right behind him.

“Yeah, you called us in here to film a How To like ten minutes ago,” Matt added. Adam turned to face his two lackeys.

“I will not allow another person to up-beard me,” he said. “I need you two to do something.”

“Do we get paid for it?”

“No.”

“You should run while you still can,” Joel said from the computer. “Adam has gone beard-crazy.”

“Joel? Why aren’t you in the office today?” Matt asked.

“I called in sick. I was having a wonderful nap until Adam woke me up with his existential facial hair crisis.”

“Ignore him,” Adam said, swiveling so that his chair blocked Joel’s view. When Joel continued to talk, Adam hit the mute button and the room was filled with blessed silence. “You two,” he said, gesturing at Matt and Jeremy. “I want you to hunt this Jack guy down, and when you do, I want you to--”

“Kill him?” Matt asked.

“What? No, I want you to shave off his stupid beard. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Seriously disturbed that we share office space now,” Jeremy said, inching carefully away from Matt.

“What are we supposed to cut his beard with?” Matt asked. “Assuming we carry out your disturbing mission?”

“I don’t know, grab some scissors from the kitchen. You don’t have to cut it all off, just make sure it’s not as beautiful as mine.”

“Do we have to?” Jeremy groaned. “I’ve got videos to edit.”

“Yeah, I’ve got to build a dick proportionally the size of the Empire State Building in Minecraft,” Matt said.

“No one cares about your boring Achievement Hunter stuff,” Adam said. “Go, get out of here.”

Grumbling, the two men left Adam’s office, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Well, almost alone. Adam looked to Joel, who was staring at him from the computer screen. Cautiously, he restored the sound.

“What?”

“You are a very bad person.”

“Shut up.”

 

“Hey, Jack. Can we talk to you for a sec?”

Jack turned to see two Rooster Teeth employees standing next to him. He hadn’t gotten everyone’s names down yet, but he thought the shorter one might be called Jeremy.

“Uh, yeah. What’s up?”

“Listen, you’re gonna want to make yourself scarce for the next few hours, maybe the rest of the day,” the other, who Jack finally remembered was called Matt, said.

“Why would I do that?” Jack asked.

“Do you know who Adam is?” Jeremy said.

“Uh, I don’t think so, but I’ve met a lot of people today. It’s hard to remember them all.”

“It doesn’t really matter if you know him or not, point is, he’s seriously pissed at you, so you need to hide out somewhere for awhile.”

“What? Why? What did I do?” Jack asked, alarmed and a bit annoyed. He hadn’t even been here for a week and already he had somehow ticked someone off.

“It’s because of your beard,” Jeremy explained.

“My beard? What’s wrong with my beard?”

“Nothing. That’s the problem,” Matt said. “See, Adam is kind of known around here as _the_ beard guy, and you’re sort of usurping his throne, so to speak.”

“Adam wants us to, uh, _modify_ your beard,” Jeremy said. “But since we’re not assholes--”

“Well, not total assholes,” Matt clarified.

“--we thought we’d give you a heads up.”

“But what the hell am I supposed to do?” Jack asked. “I’ve got shit to do today.”

Matt and Jeremy shrugged in unison.

“Not our problem,” Matt said.

“This is so stupid,” Jack said, but he didn’t want to upset anyone on his first week at work, so he did as Matt and Jeremy had suggested and started looking for an office to hide in. He checked in a couple of conference rooms but really needed a place with a computer, so he kept looking. Just then he heard a door slam loudly behind him and, worried it might be this Adam guy out for blood, quickly ducked into the nearest door and closed it behind him. For a few moments he just stood there with his ear to the door, trying to hear if anyone was coming after him.

“Who the hell are you?”

Startled, Jack turned away from the door. A man with heavily tattooed arms and a mustache so large it was almost cartoonishly ridiculous was staring at him. Jack’s face turned red with embarrassment as he realized he must have burst into this man’s office and disrupted his work. They were standing in a small room with a handful of computers against the wall, although all the desks were empty. The man was standing in a doorway that seemed to lead to another, larger office. Jack wondered if he could just ask the guy if he could use a computer, but that might be weird, and this silence was already carrying on so long that it had long surpassed “awkward” and was moving into “mortifying” territory.

“Hello? Is there a mouth under all that beard?” the man asked. Jack blinked and refocused.

“Uh. I’m Jack. I’m, uh, I’m new.”

“Oh good. For a second I felt bad because I couldn’t remember your name,” the man said. “This place is getting too big for me to keep track of everyone. What can I do for you, Jack?”

For just a second, Jack considered turning around and running back out of the place instead of trying to explain the stupid situation he’d gotten himself into, but this guy seemed nice enough and he had available computers.

“Well, I think I might have offended someone, I guess, I haven’t even met the guy. But Jeremy and Matt told me I should avoid him and I needed a place with a working computer and that how I ended up in here.”

The man snorted with amusement.

“What did you do? Sit on someone?” 

“No. It has something to do with my beard.”

“Ohh, you pissed off Adam didn’t you? Fuck, man, definitely hide out in here for the rest of the day. His Royal Beardiness does not appreciate being upstaged.”

“I didn’t mean to--” Jack began, but was interrupted by a shout from the other room.

“GAVIN YOU FUCKING SHITBAG!”

“Hold that thought,” the man said, turning towards the open doorway. He peeked in and turned back with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Oh you definitely don’t want to miss this, get in here.” As he spoke, the man had already moved into the next room. “The name’s Geoff, by the way,” he called over his shoulder as he vanished from sight. Jack hesitated. He could hear some kind of commotion going on. People were laughing as the same voice from before kept shouting an impressive vocabulary of curse words. Jack could also hear muffled shrieks that sounded like a dying bird, though he had no idea what that could be. Eventually his curiosity got the better of him and he walked through the doorway.

There were seven people in the room, which was a larger, more cluttered version of the office Jack had just passed through. Five of them, including Geoff, were crowded around two young men who were yelling at each other in the corner of the room. One, a skinny, messy-haired guy wearing a “Touch My Awesome Button” t-shirt was perched on top of a white couch, shielding himself from various projectiles launched at him by the aggressor, a curly-haired kid who barely even paused for breath as he chucked pillows, food, and the occasional bobble-head at the other guy.

“Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get that achievement you goddamn, rat-bastard, fucking prick?” the curly-haired guy shouted at the man who Jack assumed was the aforementioned shitbag, Gavin.

“But, Michael--” Gavin pleaded, caught between laughing and looking absolutely terrified as he narrowly avoided being hit in the face by a bag of chips.

“If you try to mess with my controller one more goddamn time I will rip out your intestines and use them to string you up like a piñata while I beat your goddamn brains out to see if there’s any candy!”

“Piñatas! The party favor of my people!” said one of the people watching. He was using his phone to film the entire thing, making Jack think back to the company’s policy he’d learned about early on. You can do whatever the hell you want, as long as it’s on camera. Suddenly, the screaming ball of rage launched himself at the couch, dragging Gavin down onto the floor where the two of them began wrestling with each other.

“Hey, there!” piped up a voice that Jack could only describe as chipper. He turned to see a vividly red-haired woman peering up at him with a big smile on her face. Her complete unconcern with what was going on made Jack think this was not an uncommon occurrence.

“I’m Lindsay,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“Oh, no I’m still new here,” Jack said. “I haven’t met everyone yet. I’m Jack, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, friend,” Lindsay said, stepping nimbly out of the way as Gavin’s flailing feet knocked over a nearby trashcan.

“So, what’s going on in here?” Jack asked.

“The usual for this office,” Lindsay said. “The guy rolling around on the floor and shrieking at a pitch that would put most sopranos to shame is Gavin, and the guy who’s either trying to strangle him or have sex with him is my husband, Michael.” She began pointing around the room, introducing Jack to everyone. “The one filming the whole thing is Ray. I think you’ve met Geoff already. Don’t be alarmed by the sounds coming from him, believe it or not, he’s laughing, not dying. And that’s Ryan and Kdin over there.”

“Uh, right,” Jack said, thinking he’d be lucky if he could remember even half of those names.

“Alright, morons, time to get back to work,” Geoff said after finally catching his breath. Gavin wiggled free of Michael’s grasp and darted across to the other side of the room, hiding behind Lindsay for safety.

“Who’re you?” he asked, spotting Jack.

“This is Jack!” Lindsay said cheerfully.

“He’s hiding out in here because his beard is too luxurious for Adam to handle,” Geoff explained, going back to his desk.

“Fuck, you got on Ellis’s shit list?” Michael said from the floor. “Nice knowing you, man.” He was glaring at Gavin, possibly deciding whether it was worth tackling his wife to get at him. In the end, he decided against it and returned to his desk as the others wound down and did the same. Ray pocketed his phone and, yawning, plopped down in the seat to the left of Michael. Gavin seemed reluctant to move, and opted instead to keep talking to Jack.

“So what d’you do here?” he asked. “Where do you work?”

“I don’t really have a set place yet,” Jack said. “They brought me on initially as a video editor but I’ve been moving around a lot, trying out different stuff.”

“Oh top,” Gavin said. “Bit of a Jack of all trades, then?” He grinned, clearly pleased with his joke while a chorus of “Shut the fuck up, Gavin” could be heard from Michael and Ray.

“Hey, asshole,” Geoff said from his desk. “You can play twenty questions with the new guy later. We need to film this.”

Gavin came out from behind Lindsay but hesitated in approaching his desk, which was directly to Michael’s right. Michael smiled and patted the seat next to him.

“Come on, Gavvy, don’t you want to sit next to your boi?”

Gavin approached his chair like a bird approaches a hand filled with birdseed--cautiously optimistic, but ready to fly away should those fingers so much as twitch.

“ _Today_ , Gavin,” Geoff said. Gavin quickly jumped into his seat and turned so that the back of his chair was shielding him from Michael. Michael merely muttered ‘finally’ and put his headphones on, though he kept stretching his hand out in Gavin’s direction, psyching the guy out repeatedly.

“Okay, everyone, load up GTA V and when you’re ready we’ll start,” Geoff said, getting up out of his chair and picking up a giant microphone.

“Should I leave?” Jack asked Lindsay.

“Nah, stay and watch,” Lindsay said, jerking her thumb back at the couch. “The mics won’t pick you up from over there.”

Jack was curious to see what kind of stuff these guys put out. He’d heard of the Achievement Hunters, of course, they were pretty well-known for their chaotic antics and just being general nuisances around the company. But they worked well off of each other, as Jack soon discovered. Lindsay and Kdin served as the camera-people, filming Geoff and the others as they competed in some game called Go.

“Michael’s getting very close,” Geoff said, leaning over Michael’s shoulder to take a look at his screen. They were trying to be the first person to successfully recover from a five-star wanted level without using Lester.

“Bollocks!” Gavin shouted, as he was shot by the police and had to start over yet again.

“Ray decided to use the very unusual tactic of falling asleep in the middle of the game.” Jack looked and saw that Ray, who had been yawning frequently for the past few minutes, had indeed nodded off in his chair.

“And Ryan’s trying to get away on a speedboat.”

“I’m leaving my crimes behind to embark on an adriatic, aquit, a-gah!” Ryan fumbled around his words, turning red with embarrassment and hiding his face from Kdin’s camera.

“Ryan just had a stroke,” Geoff joked, and moved to check back on Gavin. This went on for about fifteen minutes, until Michael eventually ditched his wanted level and was declared the winner.

“Finally, I can get back to-- _achoo!_ \--work,” Kdin said, sneezing violently into his arm.

“Are you still sick? Keep your gross germs away from me,” Lindsay said, laughing as she backed away from Kdin.

“Kdin has cooties,” Michael sang as he passed by. Just then, sore loser Gavin flicked a rubber band at his face, which caught Michael just underneath his left eye.

“You motherfucker!”

As Michael launched himself at Gavin again, Jack found himself laughing along with the others. These guys were actually pretty funny.

 

“Is it done?” Adam asked of his underlings.

“Jeez, man, we’re editing as fast as we can,” Matt said.

“No, I mean, the whole, ‘get rid of Jack’s beard’ thing. Did you do it?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jeremy said, completely focused on the screen in front of him.

“Excellent,” Adam said, stroking his glorious beard. “Once again, _I_ have the fairest beard in the land. Wouldn’t you agree, Joel?”

“Adam, your beard is the most beautiful thing in the world. If you were to take a basket of puppies, a sky full of rainbows, and a bunch of super hot models, and put them all in a room together, your beard would still be the most beautiful. Now can I go to back to sleep?”

“Aw man,” Matt said before Adam could answer. “Kdin just sent over a bunch of new videos for me to edit.”

“Why isn’t he doing them?” Jeremy asked.

“I think he caught Joel’s cold. He’s been sneezing all day and his head is killing him.”

“He should just get Jack to do it, dude’s there anyway.”

“What was that?” Adam said.

“He’s hiding out in the Achievement Hunter office until you chill out,” Matt said.

“So you didn’t do anything to his beard?”

“No, because we’re not complete jackasses.”

“Are you kidding, Matt?” Jeremy said. “You’re a total jackass. You just sold Jack out!”

“I have been staring at giant Minecraft dick for two hours! I can’t be held accountable for my actions!”

“Enough!” Adam shouted. “I’ll take care of him myself.”

“You should go in a disguise,” Joel said from the computer.

“What? Why?”

“Well if Jack recognizes you, he won’t let you anywhere near his beard.”

“Good point.” Adam looked around the office and picked up an Achievement Hunter scarf Jeremy had brought in. He wrapped it around the lower half of his face, completely hiding his beard from sight.

“You should disguise your voice too, so the other guys don’t know who you are,” Joel added helpfully.

“This is good point,” Adam said in an absolutely terrible and vaguely Russian-German accent. “Now to be sneaky with ze destruction of ze rival beard.” He glanced around the room before spotting a bottle of NyQuil Joel had left behind next to a half-eaten box of KC donuts from yesterday. He picked up both, an idea forming. 

“Farewell, my comrades!” he called out, and with as much dignity as he could muster, he swept out of the office. Matt and Jeremy stared after him before turning back to Adam’s computer.

“He is aware they’re going to figure out who he is in a second, right?” Jeremy asked.

“Listen, no one wakes me up from my mid-day, sickness-recovery nap without getting punished,” Joel said. “Now someone please end this conversation so I can go to bed.”

 

Jack was having a good day. He was getting shit done, no one was complaining about his beard, and he’d made a few new friends. Granted, they were the kind of friends who sort of had to grow on you for a bit before you could even stand them, but they certainly were fun to watch.

“Hey, Jack!” Geoff called out from his desk. Ray had decided to take a nap on the couch, since he was so exhausted he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Jack wondered if he stayed up all night playing video games even though that was already his job. “Wanna fill in?”

“Are you sure?”

“Why not? You can’t be any worse than Gavin.”

“Hey!”

“Oh shut the fuck up, Gavin.”

“Michael!”

Jack was initially nervous about playing with this group of people who worked off each other so well, but found that once they started, things really clicked. He got annoyed at Gavin a lot, which Michael approved of (“See? I’m not the only one who thinks you’re a fucking asshole, you prick!”), worked fairly well with Ryan, and felt a thrill of pride whenever something he said made Geoff laugh.

“So which employee do I have to steal you from?” Geoff asked. “Because you should definitely consider working in here full-time. Is Burnie your boss? I bet I could trade for you with a sandwich.”

Before Jack could answer there was a knock at the door leading out into the main hallway. Since Kdin had gone home sick and Lindsay was talking to Michael, Jack got up to get it himself. But when he opened the door he was greeted by yet more proof that this entire company was fucking insane.

The man standing in the doorway was tall, even taller than Jack, which was something that didn’t happen often. Most of his face was obscured by a green and black scarf that was wrapped around his mouth and nose, and he stared at Jack with squinted eyes.

“A’lo. You must be Comrade Jack! I have heard so much about you!”

What the fuck.

“Uh, are you looking for Geoff? They just finished recording, if you want to come in.”

“So kind, so kind.” The man shuffled into the room but did not continue on into the main office. Instead, he stood near the doorway staring at Jack, who wanted to go back to the others but didn’t want to appear rude.

“Can I help you with something?”

“Yes! I am wanting to be giving these to you, to share with your friends.” The man held out a box of KC Donuts, which Jack cautiously accepted.

“Uh, thanks, man.”

“Might I recommend ze one with ze chocolate sprinkles? Most enjoyable.”

Maybe if he ate the donut this weirdo would go away. Jack opened the box and found that only one had the aforementioned chocolate sprinkles. Taking a big bite out of it, he smiled and flashed the thumbs up as best he could while holding the box. The strange man might have been pleased, but it was impossible to tell with that scarf covering most of his face.

Jack felt he had been polite enough, and as he swallowed his donut he made to head back into the main office but stopped when a sudden wave of drowsiness struck him. He tried to take another step, but found that he was suddenly extremely tired, and collapsed into one of the empty chairs, the box of donuts slipping from his hand. He could hear the sounds of the others shouting and laughing in the other room as they started up another video, but their voices faded out as he drifted into unconsciousness. The last sight he saw was the man removing his scarf, exposing his face.

 _Now_ that _is a beard_ , was Jack’s last coherent thought before he dropped off to sleep.

 

“Jack? Jack! The hell are you doing in here?”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I think he just passed out.”

“Well wake him up.”

“What do you think he’s trying to do, dumbass?”

“Maybe you should kiss him.”

“Remind me why I hired you idiots again.”

Jack slowly blinked awake and took in his surroundings. The Achievement Hunters had crowded into the smaller office and were all peering at him anxiously. Even Michael looked concerned.

“What happened, buddy?” Geoff asked as Jack rubbed at his eyes and sat up.

“And why are there donuts all over the floor?” Lindsay asked.

“I’m, I’m not sure,” Jack said. His head was still a bit fuzzy but was clearing up, and it didn’t take long for him to recall the recent visitor and his strange behavior.

“This weird fucking guy just showed up, gave me those donuts. He was wearing a giant scarf around his face, even though the AC’s not on, and he was doing a god-awful Russian accent. He offered me the donuts, I ate one and passed out. You guys don’t have a new show going on that I don’t know about, do you?”

“So when a random, weird-acting stranger offers you food you take it?” Lindsay asked, grinning with amusement.

“I do when it’s a KC donut,” Jack said. Geoff laughed.

“I’d probably do the same thing,” Gavin admitted.

“Yeah, because you’re a fucking idiot,” Michael shot back.

“What? Am not!”

“You would take candy out of a goddamn van!” Michael yelled. Jack, already accustomed to their bizarre interactions, quickly tuned them out, instead thinking about the man from earlier.

“Oh!” he said, suddenly remembering. “Just before I passed out, I saw the guy’s face. Know anyone around here with a really big beard?”

Geoff, Ryan, and Lindsay looked at each other. Michael and Gavin had taken their argument into the next room, where they were loud enough to possibly even wake up Ray.

“Well, that explains that,” Geoff said.

“Explains what?” Jack asked. Ryan grimaced and took out his phone, switching on the camera and nervously handing it to Jack.

“Try not to freak out,” he said.

“At least until I get my camera recording,” Lindsay said. She was smiling widely as she held up her own phone to film Jack’s reaction to whatever he was about to see. Feeling more than a little bit anxious, Jack held up Ryan’s phone to his face as Geoff and Lindsay both stifled their laughter.

His beard was gone. Well, mostly. It looked like someone had taken a pair of rusted scissors and chopped off random chunks of facial hair. Specifically a blind individual missing three fingers and with very little idea of how to use a pair of scissors. It looked awful, to be sure, and Jack was incredibly pissed off at the guy who had done this to him, but still . . .

“He’s aware that your beard will grow back, right?” Ryan said, voicing Jack’s thoughts as Geoff and Lindsay lost it completely.

“Probably not. What an idiot!” Geoff cried, as he wiped as his eyes.

“I can scrounge up another pair of scissors if you want to finish the job,” Lindsay said from behind her phone.

“What kind of asshole would do this?” Jack said, furious.

“Don’t worry, I know how you can get him back,” Geoff said. “But first you’ve got to cut off the rest of that thing, dude, before I shit myself laughing.”

 

Adam was quite pleased with himself. When his friends and subordinates had failed him, he had risen above to carry out the challenge himself, and he had succeeded. He had secured his position as having the best beard in the entire office, and that naive upstart Jack Pattillo was probably so intimidated by him he would never oppose him again. He’d not seen the guy since yesterday, but felt confident there would be no confrontation. After all, Jack had no idea who he was, thanks to his brilliant disguise.

Enjoying his good mood, Adam pulled up Joel’s profile on Skype.

“Mirror, mirror on the wall. Who has the fairest beard of all?”

“You are so lucky I am feeling better. Why don’t we try out some of the greeting suggestions I sent you? How about, ‘Hi, Joel. How are you feeling after you nearly died of the plague yesterday when I kept bugging you about my annoying personal problems?’ That one’s my favorite.”

“I’m having a great day, Joel. Matt and Jeremy did all my work, my rightful place in life is secure, and Geoff even gave me this cool beard cream. He said it’ll make my beard look even more fucking awesome than usual. I tried it out today, what do you think?”

“I have no idea, you don’t have your video on.”

“Oh shit, hang on.”

Adam fumbled around until his camera switched on and Joel could see him properly. However, instead of marveling at his beard, Joel frowned and squinted at his screen.

“Is my contrast fucked up?” Joel muttered, reaching forward to adjust something on his computer.

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s not. Oh my god. That is fucking the greatest thing I have ever seen.”

“What?”

“Have you, did you by any chance look in a mirror today?”

“I had to rush out of the house so I wouldn’t be late. Applying the cream took a lot longer than I thought it would.”

Joel was laughing now. Adam frowned and clicked on the tiny icon of his face in their video chat, enlarging it so his image filled the screen.

“What the--”

At first, he thought something was wrong with his computer, because his beard, his beautiful, beautiful beard, once such a strong, deep reddish-brown, was now, unmistakably--

“Pink!” Adam shouted. “My beard is fucking pink!”

“I’d say it’s more lightish-red,” Joel said, still laughing.

“What the fuck happened?”

Adam searched his desk until he found the offending cream, which appeared perfectly ordinary. He then noticed a card that had been taped underneath, and he quickly pulled it out and read it.

“Touché, jackass. Touché,” he said.

 

_With love from the newest Achievement Hunter. --Jack Pattillo_


End file.
